Hidden Away
by KatiKat
Summary: Set in my Lifebearers and Sires universe. Some readers demanded a story about how Milliardo and Treize met, so here it is. Fantasy, mpreg, future 136. AND! I won´t be continuing this fic immediately, but I WILL return to it as soon as my other fics are f


**Hidden Away - part 1/teaser  
by KatiKat  
  
Treize couldn´t believe it. It was winter, the best season of all in the City, the time for balls and parties... and his Sire called him back to their family estate in the North. What would he be doing here? Nothing much to do besides watch the snow fall. His Sire could have at least called him back because of some urgent matter. But no, he just wanted him to "learn about managing their property". If he hadn´t have been fifteen years old, he would have pouted.  
  
"Hurry up, Treize," Lord Khushrenada called out. "Looks like a snow storm is coming."  
  
Treize frowned, but kicked his horse to catch up. Cold. Cold was bad, awful. He hated it. In the City it was never cold since the capital of OZ laid at the border of the large Southern desert. Warm, sun... the sea... The young man sighed and drew his cloak more tightly around his shivering form.  
  
"That is the Peacecraft castle," his Sire said, pointing at the dark shape sitting atop the rocky hill in front of them. Seeing his son raise his eyebrow and twist his mouth, he added. "I know it´s nothing much, but it´s one of the largest strongholds on our property and Baron Peacecrat is a loyal liegeman and he deserves your respect."  
  
Treize sighed. Another loyal guy who propably served with his Sire on some ship or whatever. He would bet that there was some story hidden behind it and they would be oh-so-willing to share it with the younger generation. The brown-haired youth snorted. As if he was interested in it.  
  
They left the woods and headed up the road to the massive gate of the stone stronghold. It rather surprised Treize that when they arrived at the gate, it didn´t automatically swing open, like on all the other occasions when they visited the seats of their other liegemen. Instead, they had to use the iron knocker.  
  
"What´s wrong with them?" Treize asked, irritated while they waited and waited and nobody opened the door.  
  
His Sire raised his hand to calm him down. "They live pretty much in seclusion."  
  
Suddenly the gate swung open with a creak so loud, it almost brought tears to Treize´s eyes. The figure of a small man, dressed in warm but plain clothes appeared. He bowed deeply to them.  
  
"Your Highness, the Lord is awaiting you," the man rasped, bowing again.  
  
Lord Khushrenada nodded. "Thank you, Charles." With that, he rode past the servant. Treize sighed and followed his Sire.  
  
Passing through the gate, they stepped into a large courtyard. Actually, it was so large that Treize was left gaping at it. The stronghold didn´t look quite that large from the outside.  
  
Noticing his son´s surprised look, Khushrenada explained. "In the past this stronghold could take in over a thousand warriors. It was more than useful in guarding the borders of the north."  
  
With another creak, Charles closed the gate, then limped toward the waiting nobility. They slipped from their saddles, then threw him the reins. After the man departed, they walked up the stairs to the castle's main door. It was open, and in it stood the man they came to visit.  
  
Lord Khushrenada and Lord Peacecraft looked pretty much alike. Tall, square-shouldered, battle scars marring their weatherworn skin. But where Khushrenada´s face was covered with a greying short beard, Peacecraft´s face was clean shaven. But except for that and the difference in their hair colors - Khushrenada´s hair was dark, his liegeman´s blond - they could be brothers.  
  
"My Lord!" Peacecraft welcomed them, clasping the hand Treize´s Sire offered tightly.  
  
"Zechs, you haven´t changed at all in all these years, old friend." Khushrenada clapped him on the shoulder, laughing.  
  
Peacecraft answered the laugh with his own, then motioned them to step in. "Come in, please, come in. The day is cold and a storm is coming, too."  
  
They followed the blond man in, untying their coats as the blazing heat of the main hall slapped them in their faces.  
  
"You have it pretty warm in here, Zechs," the Lord said, stepping closer to the blazing fire in the large fireplace to warm his frozen hands.  
  
"Yes, sir," the liegeman answered with a nod. "My son doesn´t like cold much."  
  
Treize, who was looking around the shadowed hall, snorted. And who did?  
  
"Oh, your son... I haven´t seen him in years now. How old is he?"  
  
Zechs smiled. "Milliardo is nine, my lord. He is such a healthy brat. Soon I won´t be able to call him little, since he is growing so fast."  
  
Khushrenada laughed. On the other side of the hall where Treize was looking at the old battle axes hanging on the wall, the young man rolled his eyes. Oh, please, no stories about children!  
  
"And this is my son, Zechs." Khushrenada motioned his son to come closer, then laid him a hand on his shoulder. "Treize."  
  
Peacecraft offered him a hand and Treize clasped it, wincing slightly at the old man´s strong grip. "Nice boy you have there, my lord. I remember when he was born. Your mate was so close to term and we were still cruising the North Sea on-"  
  
In an attempt to escape another exchange of memories between old comrades, the fourth this week, Treize jumped in, interrupting the story. "Could I maybe look around, Lord Peacecraft?" he asked politely.  
  
"Sure, but be careful. The corridors are always wet and especially in winter, rather slippery. I tried to find a way to get rid of the ever present moisture, but..."  
  
Making a hasty retreat, Treize took the first corridor that would lead him away from them. Gods, what he would give to be back in the City.  
  
The brown-haired youth walked down the torchlit corridor for some time. Finding a stairwell, he took it and had to admit that the old man hadn´t exaggerated. If it wasn´t for the iron railing, he would have slipped on the wet stones and fallen down the stairs at least twice already.  
  
Stepping into another corridor where the torches were farther apart, he propped his hands on his hips and sighed again. Now what? He had no idea where he was going, but rather happy that he didn´t take off his warm winter coat for the air was rather chilly in this part of the castle.  
  
Suddenly, he had the impression that he had heard voices. Frowning, he walked down the corridor slowly and listened at every door.  
  
"Not here... Nope, not here either... Nothing..."  
  
Lifting his eyebrows, Treize pushed open the door behind which the mysterious talker was hidden. The door swung in quietly, probably oiled recently. Obviously, he had found the castle´s library, for everywhere he looked there were books: on chairs, tables, on the floor, in the large bookcases reaching from the floor to the ceiling. Where was the person?  
  
"Where did he put it?"  
  
The voice, a quite young one if Treize could tell, came from the left. The brown-haired youth stepped further into the room, and trying to avoid the stack of books in the dim torchlight, he headed left. But couldn´t see anyone. Where...?  
  
"He hid it again!"  
  
Following the frustrated sigh up and up and up, Treize blinked. On the topmost shelf of one of the bookcases, a blond boy... hung. Feet propped on the shelf two rows below, he was obviously searching for something.  
  
"Hello?" Treize called and had to react really fast when the boy on the shelf yelped, having been startled, and after losing his grip, started to fall. Stretching his arms though, Treize managed to catch the slight body before it could hit the floor. Looking down at his catch, the youth took in the long blond hair tucked in a long ponytail at the nape, large blue eyes and pale skin. It was quite a lovely sight. "That could have gone much worse," Treize commented, the boy didn´t seem scared, though. Rather angry, actually.  
  
"Do you know that it´s awfully rude to sneak up on other people when they do not expect it?" he snapped at his rescuer, and remaining in the strong arms, he crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
Treize blinked. "Beg your pardon?"  
  
The boy rolled his eyes. "I said-"  
  
Treize frowned at him. "I know what you said. Are you calling me rude?"  
  
The blond boy nodded. "Well, yes."  
  
The Khushrenada youth couldn´t believe his ears. The little...! "I saved your little behind!"  
  
"I wouldn´t need rescuing if you hadn´t startled me in the first place!" the boy retorted.  
  
"Fine!" Treize opened his arms, and if it hadn´t been for the boy´s fast reaction, he would have fallen on his backside.  
  
The boy jumped up quickly and frowned darkly. "As I said, you´re awfully rude and have no manners!"  
  
Treize watched the boy, who was dusting off his plain grey pants as if he wasn´t there, with disbelief. He had no manners? He, whom the high society had crowned as society´s rising star? He, who...  
  
But the boy obviously didn´t care. When he considered his pants clean, he threw Treize one last glance full of disinterest and headed for the door, the brown-haired youth used to come in.  
  
"What the-" Treize muttered to himself, then ran to the door behind which the boy disappeared. The corridor was empty though. "Well, hello to you too!" Treize shouted after him. Face set in a scowl, he copied the boy´s gesture and crossed his arms over his chest. Realizing what he just did annoyed him and he let his arms fall to his sides. "Impertinent little..." But then a smile settled on his lips. It was the first time since he arrived in this wilderness that something piqued his interest. Remembering what the two men back in the hall were talking about, his smile widened. "I think I just met Milliardo Peacecraft!"  
  
TBC**


End file.
